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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946929">Game Over</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijuvenom/pseuds/kaijuvenom%20after%20dark'>kaijuvenom after dark (kaijuvenom)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Violence, But I Would Like To Just Say That Objectively, Ed Is A Murderer In This And No Amount Of Moral Relativism Is Gonna Change That, Ed Slowly Loses His Mind, F/F, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, Gratuitous Use Of Moral Relativism, Hallucinations, Kristen Kringle is a Lesbian, M/M, Other additional characters to be added, The Riddler Doesn't Have An Engineering Degree But Someone Should Hire Him, The Riddler Is Basically Jigsaw, This Is A Saw AU, Torture Devices, additional relationships to be added - Freeform, and Edward is gay, escape room, graphic murder, so they break up pretty quick</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:47:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,623</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946929</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijuvenom/pseuds/kaijuvenom%20after%20dark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Where does someone go when everything has left them? Why do they continue to tolerate the people who couldn’t care less if they live or die? What do they do when no one wants a thing to do with them? They take control back. They wake up. Show everyone who they really are, that they are someone everyone else should be afraid of.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kristen Kringle/Edward Nygma, Nina Damfino/Diedre Vance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Everyone Told Me That it Would Get Better</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Additional Notes: this isn’t set in the Gotham universe, but because Kristen Kringle is here + I kinda want lucius fox and Ex to have a thing, I wasn’t sure whether to call it Gotham or not, because other things like Query and Echo, + (in future chapters) scarecrow and Harley Quinn are gonna be in it, and scarecrow isn’t gonna be Gotham universe scarecrow so. i have really gone and picked thru bits of Gotham that I liked (kristen kringle and foxma) and thrown everything else in the trash where it belongs.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em> But every day feels exactly the same.</em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hi hello yes this is posted on my NSFW pseud, however, if you don't mind gore and general horror-movie-slasher-villain themes, I don't mind if you're under 18 and read this. But please, especially in later chapters (not necessarily the first couple) READ THE TAGS. This is essentially a Saw AU, it's gonna be very violent.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"><span class="s1"> Wake up. </span> <span class="s2"><strike>Breakfast</strike>.</span> <span class="s1">Coffee and a blank stare into the mirror. The alarm kept blaring away. </span> <strike><span class="s2">Kiss Kristen goodbye.</span></strike> <span class="s1">Forgot to kiss his girlfriend goodbye. </span> <strike><span class="s2">Smile at the bus driver</span></strike><span class="s1">. Stare at the floor until his stop. </span><strike> <span class="s2">Greet coworkers</span></strike><span class="s1">. Hole himself up in his office and make plans to stay there, manning the cameras of escape room number two, for the rest of the day. </span> <strike><span class="s2">Eat lunch</span></strike><span class="s1">. Stay in his office the rest of the day, watching groups of people come in, giving them hints for exceedingly obvious riddles and puzzles and forcing a smile and a ‘better luck next time’ when he had to come down and unlock the door for them because they were too stupid too—</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Wake up. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He jolted upward, heart pounding. Had he fallen asleep? What time was it? He checked his phone. Missed call: Kristen (5). Ah. He probably should have been home a while ago. How long had he been asleep? The light was blinking, signaling the group currently in the escape room wanted a hint. They could wait a minute longer. He had time to call Kristen back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“Hello? Ed?” </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Yeah. What’s wrong?” Well, clearly, Ed knew exactly what was wrong. He should’ve been home a while ago. Kristen didn’t seem to appreciate that response. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“What’s wrong? You were supposed to be home!” </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I fell asleep,” Ed responded, without much feeling behind it. Kristen, of course, had every right to be concerned about Ed, although, for some reason, he was finding her more obnoxious than sweet. To be fair, he had been finding most things obnoxious lately, not just his girlfriend. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“Seriously? Ed, we were supposed to have dinner tonight. We needed to talk. We need to talk-”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Well, that was a long time coming. “I’ll be home in half an hour.” It was odd, he didn’t <em>want </em>to break up with Kristen, he loved her. She was his soulmate. At least, he’d thought she was at one point, and he wasn’t quite ready to let that fantasy go. He liked having someone to come home to, someone to talk to, make dinner for, all the stupid clichés, and without her, he’d go back to the insanity of being alone. That lack of someone else in his life would leave yet another hole, another thing to add to his list of ‘Things I Have No Say In’. “There’s a group here who needs a hint from me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“A group?” </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Ed frowned at her confused tone, pausing for a second. “Yes? A group of people in the escape room?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“I thought you said you fell asleep.”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I did. What’s your poin-” Oh. <em>Oh. </em>He looked up, at the cameras showing the group of six people in the escape room. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They didn’t look so good.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> In fact, one of them looked like she was about to start suffocating, kneeling on the ground, while two of the others were on either side of her, probably offering soothing words. Another was pounding on the door, the sound so loud that it echoed into Ed’s office if he listened closely enough. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“Ed?”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “I have to go, I’ll be home in half an hour.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>“Ed-”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He didn’t bother listening to whatever it was that Kristen had to say to him, he had a rather large problem to deal with now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A problem that grew even larger when he glanced at the time on his phone. Ten o’clock pm. The escape room had closed four hours ago. The automatic emergency timer should’ve gone off then. It should’ve unlocked the door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Wake. Up. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Ed jumped, once again feeling his heart rate accelerate as he spun around, looking for the source of the voice he could’ve <em>sworn </em>he’d heard. Of course, there was nothing there. He looked back at the cameras. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Hm. One of them was now yelling at the camera. Actually… not really yelling. Screaming, sobbing, throwing things? They were <em>throwing </em>things. They were so desperate. Ed felt horrible for letting this happen, even if he had no idea <em>how </em>he’d let it happen. There were failsafes put in place to ensure this kind of thing didn’t happen, but… he turned away from the cameras. Everything was turned off, aside from the escape room number three camera and the rapidly blinking <em>hint </em>light. How… odd. He looked back at the camera. Pushed the hint button, and the light stopped blinking. The screen at the corner of the escape room lit up green, with a black question mark in the center of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Yes, Ed had been allowed to design his own hint screen—whatever. But the hint that popped up on the screen was not something Ed was familiar with. Not at all. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> It read, <em>‘Soldiers lined up, spaced with pride. Two long rows lined side by side. One sole unit can decide if the rows will unite or divide’. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The people on the camera seemed just as confused as Ed did, although for entirely different reasons. The answer to the riddle itself was simple enough, Ed got it after reading it through twice. What was confusing him was <em>why it was there.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Why <em>was </em>it there? Perhaps it was a new addition and Ed had just zoned out for so long that day he hadn’t noticed it. That seemed to be reasonable—although it wasn’t explaining why all of the emergency unlocks in the room were shut off. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Perhaps he shouldn’t be focusing on that and should instead focus on the fact that <em>there are people trapped inside that room.</em> Although…</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>It’s not your fault they’re too dumb to understand the clues. They’re practically gift-wrapped right there. </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Well, Ed couldn’t argue with that. Although… when had he started thinking in the second person? Was that something to be concerned about? Probably not. He focused his attention on the camera, the group of people who looked as though they were slowly losing their minds. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The janitor should’ve come in hours ago to clean up the room, Ed realized absently, wondering if he should focus on <em>that </em>before his attention was once again snapped away by the camera. One of the subjects looked to be pleading with it in a way that was really quite pathetic. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Aren’t they funny, stuck in there, the clues all around them, and they’re still too stupid to figure it out.</em> </b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ed spun around in his chair, breathing heavily, breath catching in his throat, picking up a stapler and preparing to throw it at whoever had snuck up behind him like that. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Oh. My God,” he muttered, pushing himself as far back against his desk as he could, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut tight. He threw the stapler, although he knew full well it wouldn’t do much of anything. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Hey, Eddie. Miss me? It’s been a while, huh? Thought you got rid of me, didn’t you? </em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “No. No, <em>no, nononononono-</em>” Ed shook his head harder as if that would force the hallucination out of his mind. “You were <em>gone</em>! It’s been- it’s been-”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>You really thought I was gone for good? C’mon Eddie, you know I don’t give up. It’s only been, what? Five, six years?</em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Ed opened his eyes to see the hallucination in front of him, a mirror image of himself, if not a little more well dressed, features a little crueler. “But you were <em>gone</em>,” Ed insisted, fingernails clawing into his hair, pulling at it, trying so hard to get him <em>out of his head, go away, please, I was doing so well, why are you back again? </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Is that really what you’re focusing on right now? </em></b>The hallucination gestured emphatically behind Ed and he was reminded, once again, of the people locked in the room whose lives were essentially in his hands. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “Right. Right.” Ed spun around, shaking his head and fiddling with the buttons, trying to remember what he’d been taught by his boss about the emergency controls. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Aw, come on, </em></b>the hallucination snapped, <b><em>you’re just gonna let them out? After all my hard work? </em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“All your-?” The penny dropped, clanging to the ground with a resounding echo. “You did this? You put these people—you—<em>why?</em>” He’d taken control of Ed’s body at some point during the day and done something—what if he’d—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>I didn’t put those people in the escape room. They paid good money to be put in there themselves. None of my business if they’re too dumb to get out of it. </em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> “You- it’s- but-” Ed sputtered, trying to come up with some sort of protest, some way to get the hallucination to leave him the hell alone, before giving up, focusing back on the controls. “Just go away.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The hallucination then took it upon himself to take control of Ed’s arm, pulling him back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Look at them. </em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let <em>go </em>of me!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Not. Until. You look at them. </em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I saw them already! I saw them! They need to get out! Why are you doing this?” Ed desperately attempted to regain control of his limbs, about two seconds away from either completely breaking down or submitting to the control. Both were horrifying options. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Really look at them. Look at the way they’re fighting with each other, screaming and crying. Isn’t it… exhilarating? </em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> A shiver ran down his spine and he shook his head. No. <em>No. </em>It was <em>horrible, </em>he wasn’t going to submit to what his hallucination wanted from him, he didn’t want to do this, he <em>didn’t, </em>he—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>If you can stop being such a damn coward, Eddie, for just a second, then I’ll leave you alone. Now stand the hell up and look at those monitors. And really look. </em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So that’s what he did. At least, what he managed to do once he’d regained enough semblance of self to control his own limbs and stand up. He had no idea how long it had been since he’d last looked, it felt like it had only been a few minutes at most, but in reality, he had no clue. The visions and hallucinations had been known to make him lose track of time even if it felt like only a second had gone by.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> The people in the room looked terrified, pounding on walls and the door, throwing furniture and props around, yelling at each other, sobbing, tearstains even visible on the pixelated screens.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>How does it feel? </em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Ed whirled around, facing his other-self. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>You’re in complete control of these people, watching them panic, lose their minds, you’re the only one who can save them.</em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ed shook his head, trying, once again, to clear away the voice with no success. “Stop it. <em>Stop it.</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Or let them rot here. So tell me, Ed. </em></b>The hallucination spat out his name like it was a curse. <b><em>How do you feel?</em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No, no, no, he wasn’t answering that, he couldn’t, if he did, then who knows what would happen, he could spiral right back down that rabbit hole he’d fallen down so long ago, the one he’d sworn he’d never get near again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Look at the way they’re begging for a savior, pleading with someone they don’t even know is watching them right now. I’m asking you again. </em></b>The voice was right behind his ear, then in front of him, all around him, echoing, consuming him, filling his mind until all he could hear was the question that he wasn’t really sure was actually asked. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>How. Do. You. Feel.</em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He choked, taking in a deep breath, trying to let it out slowly and failing spectacularly. He wasn’t going to answer, he wasn’t, he couldn’t, he wasn’t, he wouldn’t let himself spiral—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> But then he was looking back at the camera monitors, back at those people, those strangers, whose only thought was that they would do anything<em>, anything, </em>to get out of the situation they were in. And looking at them, watching the way they desperately clawed at the walls as if they could scratch their way out of that tiny little room…</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>How do you feel?</em></b></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> And what he saw… it was….</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> He was in control. He was in control of their lives, their entire existence depended on him, and it felt…</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b><em>Wonderful.</em></b></span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. What Do You Believe When Everyone Is Watching?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>
  <em>What do you believe when nobody is watching?</em>
</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>it hasnt been five months shut the fuck up bro</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was well into the early hours of the morning of the next day when Edward finally made it back to his apartment. The problem had been taken care of, although considering his exhaustion, he didn’t exactly remember everything that had occurred. He didn’t dwell on it though, his migraine from earlier that day (or rather, yesterday, as it was now), had come back and for some reason thinking about it only made the pain worse. And thinking about thinking about it made it worse. And thinking about thinking about-- Edward just needed to sleep. So that was what he did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kristen woke him up far too early in the morning for him to be happy about it, and he complained loudly about it, attempting to bury himself into his bed so as to avoid thinking about thinking about things. Kristen, unsympathetic to his plight, pulled away his blankets and presented him with a cup of coffee and a warm smile that didn’t actually feel very warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a long time of contemplating, he finally sat up and accepted the coffee mug, sipping from it slowly, taking long, deliberate sips and avoiding eye contact with Kristen, even as she sat down next to him and he could feel her eyes on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ed, what happened last night?” He felt her hand on his arm and he wanted to shrug it away, but instead he sighed, setting the coffee on the nightstand (that was less a nightstand and more a precarious pile of books). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” He shook his head, finally looking at her face, searching for potential answers there. “I don’t know. I fell asleep, and…” He couldn’t tell her about the people. She’d ask why the safety features had been turned off, why no one else had come around to check in on him, where the night shift janitor had been, why the police hadn’t been called, and he wouldn’t be able to answer because some of those questions </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t even have the answers to. “I lost track of time.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She frowned, and Ed didn’t like the face she was making. “You can tell me anything, Ed. Believe me, I…” She looked like she was about to say something and bit her lip, squeezing his arm, before shaking her head. “You can trust me. With anything at all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her tone was making Ed nervous, she seemed like she knew something, and he didn’t much care for that. But if she knew something… well, he had no idea what he’d do, but he needed to find out what it was. He couldn’t risk her telling anyone, worrying about his sanity, his safety, he couldn’t go through that. Not again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It sounds like you’re the one who needs to tell me something,” Ed finally said carefully, once again avoiding eye contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kristen sighed, standing up and walking away from him to look out their loft window, bathed in neon green light from the hotel sign across the street. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ed…” She began, pausing like the words were hard to get out, or maybe she just didn’t know how to say them. “You can tell me where you were last night. I think I’ll be more understanding of it than you realize.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was getting even more confusing for Ed now, and he frowned, pushing himself off the bed and moving to stand next to Kristen, staring at her as she looked out the window. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might not be the smartest person in the world, Ed, but even I can tell,” she said, turning to face him and putting a hand on his cheek, stroking it tenderly, “even I can tell we aren’t… compatible.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was Kristen </span>
  <em>
    <span>breaking up with him</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Well, wasn’t that just the icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the perfect fucking sundae that had been the past twelve hours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We want different things. And you’re my best friend, Edward, you know I’d support you through anything, and I can only hope you’ll do the same for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kristen, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>are you talking about?” Ed finally asked, pushing her hand away from his face and taking half a step back. “Won’t you stop being cryptic and just </span>
  <em>
    <span>tell me</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ed, I know, okay? I know. And when I first found out, I thought I could ignore it, maybe, I thought, maybe you’re bisexual, but then I noticed how you’re pulling away from me, physically, emotionally. And that made me realize,” she paused, although it wasn’t a long enough pause because it absolutely did not give Edward enough time to process the words she was saying, “that I was glad when you started pulling away, I started dreading when you’d kiss me, and…” She shrugged. “I realized that’s probably how we were both feeling. We were too afraid to admit it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t talking about last night. Relief flooded through Ed’s body, but it only lasted about a second before dread once again replaced it, albeit for an entirely different reason.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kristen…” he began, and then found he had no clue how to continue his sentence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to say anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kristen,” he repeated, and his hands were shaking as he tried to keep them still by his sides.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, Ed. It’s okay.” She took his hands in hers, holding them carefully, like he was one of the fragile ceramic figurines her father always sent her for every holiday. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed looked at one of those little ceramics now; a horrible hippopotamus in a pink fluffy tutu, doing a pirouette. It stared into his soul, big, overly animated eyes and horrifically wide smile. Kristen hated them almost as much as he did, but every time her father visited, he’d look around for those stupid ceramics and if he couldn’t locate every single one of them, he’d most likely burst into tears and have a breakdown. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed was feeling much the same way. Though he was afraid if he had a breakdown and burst into tears, he’d never be able to stop and poor Kristen would be forced to comfort him for hours on end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to tell me where you were last night. You don’t have to tell me</span>
</p><p>
  <span>anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was she being so </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Why was she so kind to him? She didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d lied to her for so long, he’d lied to </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and she didn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>… who he was. He didn’t even know who he was. His shadow laughed at him from a corner of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t even know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Ed,” she said quietly, and Edward felt like he might burst open, might fall onto the floor and collapse in on himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, he took a shaky breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go to work.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ed…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no intentions of doing that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled his hands free of her grasp and walked out the door, faster than he’d probably ever moved in his entire life. He hoped Kristen had the good sense not to follow him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>********</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a cop car out front of the escape room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a cop car. Out front. Of the escape room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe he could get away with leaving before--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck on a flapjack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was one of his coworkers. She ran over, waving her hand like Ed hadn’t seen her in the first place, when in fact, she was impossible to miss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nina,” he said blandly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What’s going on?” He asked, jutting his head towards the cop car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The janitor’s in a bit of a pickle. Good thing you’re here, the cops wanna talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were the one who locked up, they thought maybe you mighta seen something.” She looked about as sympathetic as anyone could get when telling their coworker/friend they were about to be interrogated by the police.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And when you say </span>
  <em>
    <span>in a pickle</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what exactly do you mean by that?” Ed wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nina looked as if she’d been waiting this whole time for Edward to ask her that. “Oh, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>wait </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘til you see it, Eddie. It’s like something outta an 80’s slasher flick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ed was beginning to feel quite nauseous, not that he’d been in the best of moods to begin with, but this sense of dread was only growing. For so many different reasons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always thought this place was boring, especially by Gotham standards. Imagine the boom in business we’ll get once it gets out there was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>murder!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t- why didn’t they </span>
  <em>
    <span>call</span>
  </em>
  <span>- why didn’t-” Ed stuttered, hands once again shaking. “What do you mean a </span>
  <em>
    <span>murder?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nina blinked, putting a hand on Ed’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay? You’ve always been fascinated by this stuff, all you ever do is try to sneak peaks at the dead bodies in the alleyways behind here, and frankly, I always found it a little weird, but I thought you’d be </span>
  <em>
    <span>excited </span>
  </em>
  <span>for this!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The janitor. The janitor. Was. Murdered.” Ed’s shadow wouldn’t stop laughing at him, echoing and growing louder and louder until he couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>stand it anymore-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His knees were buckling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His vision was fuzzy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was seeing spots. So, so many spots. They were blinking in front of his eyes and changing colors and filling in his vision, then fading out again, before coming back just as bright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no,” he murmured, and then he fell backwards onto the asphalt.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Kristen: ok lets both confess to our secrets,<br/>Kristen: I’m gay.<br/>Ed, at the same time: I murdered someone.<br/>Kristen: you WhAt<br/>Ed: oh yeah also im gay too</p><p>Alternatively;</p><p>Kristen: Ed, I have something to tell you.<br/>Kristen: We’re gay.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
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